


Paint the Town Blue

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Breaking Up & Making Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 19:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20711000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.





	Paint the Town Blue

**Author's Note:**

> For the "post break-up/divorce" square on the hurt/comfort bingo board!  
Thank you to festiveferret for the idea and natalierushman for the beta! <3
> 
> The title is from Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift

Steve was on the subway when he got the email. Shield High School’s Class of 2009 was throwing a ten-year reunion, the email proclaimed. There were a lot of exclamation points and bold font, and his stomach churned as he read. It would be held in exactly one month, and they were hoping to get as many Shield alumni as possible to attend; was he interested in helping to plan the event? Did he plan to come, and if so, was he bringing a spouse? Steve stared down at his phone for so long his eyes started to burn, and he blinked a few times like he’d just come out of a trance. 

He didn’t know what horrified him more, that he was ten years out of high school, or that most of his old classmates were married. Some probably even had kids. Twenty-eight was the kind of age where those things were normal, expected, even. He swallowed hard, then jumped as the subway screeched to a stop. Had he stared at the message a minute longer he probably would’ve missed his stop altogether. It was only as Steve attempted to shove his phone back in his pocket as he exited the subway car that he realized his hands were shaking. _ God _, ten years and one email about high school could derail him. He took the steps two at a time, trying to clear his head. 

_ Ten years. _

Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again, find out what he’d done after college. If he was dating someone, or married. Steve’s stomach turned again and he stopped right there in the middle of the street, angry New Yorkers flooding around him on the sidewalk, unfazed. Steve wanted the best for Tony, he really did. He’d be happy for him if he was married; he hated to think that Tony felt anywhere near as alone as Steve sometimes felt, even now.

He didn’t have to go to the reunion, he supposed. Steve could email back right now and politely decline. But Bucky would want to go, that much he knew. And as class president, Steve had had a lot of friends back in the day, and he’d love to hear what they’d been up to. Though, he could finally make a Facebook account and find out everything he wanted to know that way, but at this point it seemed like he’d missed the boat on the whole thing.

As soon as Steve got back to his apartment, his phone lit up again, this time with a text from Bucky. 

_ You see that email? _

Steve sighed.

_ Yep. Got it, saw it. _

_ We’re gonna go … right? _

Steve started typing, then stopped, then started again, only to stop again. 

_ Stevie _.

Bucky, of course, knew exactly why Steve would be so hesitant to go to the reunion. He watched as Bucky started typing again, then:

_ Let’s go to Jolene’s_.

Fine. That much Steve could do.

Jolene’s was their favorite bar. They’d been going there since grad school, when they’d first graduated and had next to no money after they paid their rent each month. Jolene’s was perfect because it was dim, typically not over-crowded, and had two-dollar beers during happy hour, which was unheard of in the city. Though they were out of school and making enough money to go elsewhere these days, Steve and Bucky always ended up there after a particularly hard day, or a breakup, or pretty much anything else. It was fitting that they’d go to Jolene’s for this particular walk down memory lane. 

Bucky slapped an arm around Steve in greeting. “What’s up, punk?” He asked, as if they hadn’t just had dinner two nights ago. Steve managed to smile and shrug, though his hands felt sweaty at the conversation he knew they were about to have. 

They sat and ordered drinks and baskets of wings, and Bucky fixed Steve with a stare he felt without so much as turning his head. 

“What?” Steve said.

“You know exactly what,” Bucky replied, taking a pull of his beer. 

“I think I’ll skip it,” Steve told him. “I can’t… I don’t want to deal with it.”

“Oh come on, Stevie. It’s been a _ decade_, and Tony probably won’t even go. He was always in such a rush to leave, you think he’d really bother coming back?” Bucky asked through a mouthful.

That stung. Tony hadn’t been in a hurry to leave school, just his parents. Their relationship had always been turbulent, and it only got worse the older Tony got, the more he strayed from the carefully laid path his father set for him. Steve couldn’t even blame Tony for going as far away as he could for college, not then and certainly not now.

“That’s not true and you know it,” Steve said with a sigh. He took a long sip of his beer; he really didn’t want to revisit this.

“Fine, but I still think you should at least consider it. Plenty of other people will be there, and we’ll make sure nothing bad happens; we won’t leave you alone. That way if he _ is _ there, you can look like you’re way too busy to even speak to him.” Bucky said this like it was easy, like Steve didn’t ache to see Tony and catch up and … whatever else might happen, now that they were both adults. It’s a crazy thought, and he knew it, but it was still nice to let himself think about it for once.

_ I loved him_, Steve doesn’t say. _ We loved each other and that’s not nothing_. Even though they were eighteen at the time, and their lives lay before them, an endless road of possibilities, their relationship had been four years long and intense. They were each other’s first _ everything _, had done the high school sweetheart thing and then some, ignoring the dark cloud that was their college applications for as long as they could manage, but in the end, Tony was going to USC, and Steve was staying in the city, going to NYU on a full scholarship. Neither of them could give up the opportunity before them, so instead they gave up each other.

Long distance was impossible, they both knew that, and long distance your freshman year of college? Even more so. It was simpler to end things before they left rather than have their hearts broken later on. Little did Steve know that heartbreak is heartbreak and it didn’t matter when it happened. It hurt with an enduring, consuming pain long after it occurred. And now, a decade since their break up, that same pain was washing over Steve like a fresh cut, deep and tender. Bucky didn’t understand. Of course he didn’t. His break ups were always amicable; he’d dated most of his good friends for a least a few months, aside from Steve himself. 

_ Do you know how hard it is? _Steve wanted to ask. To try and fall out of love with someone perfect for you? Someone who made you feel more like yourself than you’d ever felt before? To unlearn that instinct to call them first when something amazing happened, knowing they’d be ready to celebrate with you? Or worse yet, to have your mother pass away halfway through your junior year and not have them to cry with? Because Steve did. He knew all of those things and more, and he could tell anyone, in excruciating detail, exactly how hard it had been. Steve knew, and it had taken almost every one of the ten years he and Tony had been apart to try and unlearn them. 

For the first few months of their freshman year, Tony would check in every now and then. He’d text Steve and ask how he was doing, or how he liked his classes; he’d make small talk. Until one night, Tony was at a party and called Steve near tears after way too many drinks, asking if he thought they’d made a mistake. Steve, for all that he loved Tony, hated him in that moment. Because they’d chosen this together. _ It was for the best _, they’d said as they clutched each other the night before they packed their cars and headed to schools on opposite sides of the country, driving with bleary eyes and tear-stained shirts; the last thing they had of each other. 

Steve had listened to Tony that night on the phone, his heart breaking even as he made noncommittal sounds, and soothed Tony as best as he could without hurting himself more in the process. The next morning, he texted him for what would be the last time.

_ I don’t think we should do this anymore_. _ I can’t settle for just a piece of you, it hurts too much. I’m sorry. _

Tony’s response had been one heart-breaking word: _ Okay. _

And that was it. The most important person in Steve’s life, aside from his mother, gone, just like that. 

That had been ten years ago, and they hadn’t spoken since. Tony had taken Steve’s request to heart, and Steve tried not to let that hurt. A part of him had dared to hope that Tony might fight him, demand that they stay friends, or whatever they’d become. But he hadn’t, and Steve couldn’t blame him. It was _ his _ idea after all. 

“Steve,” Bucky said, and by the sound of his voice, it wasn’t the first time.

“Sorry, sorry, I was just…” He trailed off, embarrassed.

“Thinking about Tony?” Bucky guessed.

Steve shrugged; there was no reason to deny it, Bucky knew him too well for that. He’d been the one to console him through the whole thing, after all. God, this was pathetic. Steve was doing fine, better than fine, even. He’d made it through college, survived the loss of his mother, paid his way through grad school, and started a non-profit that worked to provide funding for the arts in areas that needed it most. Steve was successful, that much was true. He was also just… adrift, somehow. He wished he had someone to share it all with. 

“Think about it,” Bucky says, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s a month away, and we don’t have to RSVP until two weeks before, so you’ve got some time.”

Steve found himself agreeing. He knew deep, deep down, that he’d go. That he’d wear his heart on his sleeve and hope against hope that if Tony did show up, he’d be happy. If he didn’t, then Steve got a night of food and drinks with old friends. And if Tony _ did _ go, well… that was a bridge he’d have to cross when he got to it. 

\--

The night of the reunion, Steve felt nothing short of green. His stomach fluttered like he was thirteen and asking someone to a dance for the first time, and his hands wouldn’t stop sweating. When he went to hand Bucky his car keys, Bucky flinched at the touch of his clammy hand.

“Jeez Stevie, relax would ya? You don’t even know if he’ll be there. You’re gonna be fine either way, I’ll be right there with you, okay? All night.” Bucky meant well, Steve knew, but the whole evening felt alive with possibility and unanswered questions, and Steve was torn. He wanted Tony to be happy in a way that Steve himself was not, but at the same time, the idea of Tony showing up tonight with a gleaming wedding band on his left hand hurt like he’d been punched in the gut. 

There was no way he was going to survive this. 

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Steve was all but breathing into a paper bag. He wiped his hands on his pants for the millionth time as they approached the door, swallowing hard. _ It would be fine _ , he told himself. He was just about to revisit a decade-old heartbreak and possibly have his heart broken all over again, potentially worse than before. _ What could go wrong? _Steve might have laughed at his own insanity if he wasn’t so close to crying nervous tears.

The restaurant was nice, a place called Dominic’s he’d passed a million times and always meant to stop. He stood with Bucky at the bar, people milling around and reuniting. Every now and then someone would stop them and point out how miraculous it was that they were still best friends, and Bucky would clap Steve on the shoulder and make a joke about not being able to get rid of him. They were settling in, reconnecting and swapping stories. Sam Wilson came with their friend Natasha Romanoff, and Steve was just starting to relax, letting the drinks work their magic, when he spotted him.

Steve froze, his body going hot and cold as his heart beat in double time. Tony had come, after all. He stood by the door, looking entirely out of place, even though, Steve knew, he’d had a pretty big group of his own friends back in the day. Tony looked… amazing, really. Ten years had done him good. He looked nice, in a leather jacket and jeans, and shoes that Steve could tell were expensive, even from far away. He could only watch, transfixed, as Tony scanned the room. He looked almost like… he was looking for someone.

Steve’s mouth had gone completely dry, and he shoved Bucky a little too hard to alert him to Tony’s presence.

_ “ _Oh, shit,” Bucky said when he spotted Tony. “I really didn’t think he’d show, Stevie. What now?”

As if Steve knew. 

But before he could take a deep breath and attempt to figure it out, or even order another drink, Tony materialized before them. He stood a foot away, and looked even better up close, his hair so perfect Steve was hit hard with the memory of running his hands through it, making a mess of it.

“Hi, Steve,” Tony greeted him. “Bucky, how are you?” He was cautiously friendly, and by the way he kept glancing just over their heads, just as nervous as Steve about this whole thing. 

“Tony,” Steve breathed. 

“Good, Stark, how’re you?” Bucky was much better at appearing casual, Steve noted.

“Good.” Then a beat. “Good,” he repeated.

“Great,” Bucky said with a too-big smile. “Think I see someone over there I was hoping to talk to… I’ll be back in a sec.” And then just like that, after all his promises of not leaving Steve alone, Bucky disappeared into the crowd.

“It’s really… it’s so good to see you, Steve,” Tony said. He looked up at Steve and it was like lightning, almost. The room seemed to crackle, and Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Was it normal to feel this completely enthralled by your high school boyfriend, ten years after the fact? It wasn’t as if Steve hadn’t dated since Tony. He wasn't _ that _ stuck in the past. He’d dated men and women, some who even made him happy, but they all fizzled out in time, and he never felt much of anything when they did.

This, though, this electric feeling between them now, was deliciously familiar. It was like spending ten years in the shadows and being reintroduced to the sun. 

“You look good,” Tony told him, and Steve brought a hand to his hair self-consciously. “Really… really good.”

“You too, Tony.” They stood there, looking at each other and trying to find more to say than superficial compliments. In the end, Tony spoke first.

“I was really hoping you’d come tonight.” The honesty in his tone made Steve’s heart ache.

“I almost didn’t,” Steve admitted. “Didn’t know if you’d be here and if it would be… I mean… How are you, Tony?” Steve couldn’t help but glance at Tony’s hand, then hated himself for the relief that flooded him when he spotted his bare ring finger.

“Good, I guess. Work’s good, Howard would’ve hated what I’m doing with Stark Industries, which is wonderful, and means I’m doing something right for once.” Tony went on to tell Steve that he’s living in the city again too, had been for the last three years, and Steve tried not to let the disbelief show on his face. Three years they’d been in the same place and hadn’t run into each other, hadn’t even _ known _. It felt like such a waste. 

Steve told Tony about the non-profit he started, about the people he got to help and the things he got to do. He was making a difference, and he didn’t realize how proud he was until he was saying it all out loud to Tony. 

“I think the kids are the best part,” Steve told him. “That moment when they realize they can make something, and seeing the look on their face, how excited they are to create something, it’s… like nothing else.”

“It sounds incredible, really, though that doesn’t surprise me in the least. You always wanted to do good things, and now here you are, ten years later, doing exactly that.”

Steve could feel the blush as it crept over his cheeks. It was so easy, talking to Tony, it should scare him, but it didn’t. Because wasn’t this what he’d wanted all along? Confirmation that they were both okay, if not happy? Something in him still fluttered with the hope for more though, and he did his best to tamp it down.

They were quiet for a minute, and Steve took a careful sip of his drink. He was about to open his mouth to continue the conversation when Tony did it for him.

“We don’t have to stay here,” Tony pointed out. “Unless you want to, of course,” he added. “I’m fine staying here, but I really want to… we could go somewhere and talk? I really only came here with the selfish hope of seeing you.”

The air seemed to go out of the room.

Tony was right of course. They didn’t have to stay there, nothing was holding them. They weren’t kids anymore, on a curfew, or their parent’s dime. There were no expectations here tonight except their own. 

“We can go somewhere else,” Steve agreed, though he felt like his voice was shaking. 

He texted Bucky letting him know they’d left, then followed Tony out to the parking lot. Tony led them to his car, a blue Audi that looked like it cost more than Steve made in a year, and he sat himself on the smooth leather passenger seat, nervous. 

Tony looked at him when he got in, a million questions in his eyes. They don’t discuss where to go; neither of them had a plan for this. Steve couldn’t bring himself to break the silence, didn’t want to ruin whatever might be happening. 

“I was so sorry to hear about your mom, Steve.” Tony said finally.

That was… the last thing Steve expected Tony to bring up. How did he even know about that? He sat in stunned silence and Tony continued. “I wanted to call you more than anything. I thought about it. Thought about showing up at your door, seeing if you still lived in the same place. But I didn’t think that would be fair, me showing up at a time like that, when you were grieving.”

Just like that, Steve’s throat tightened with the threat of tears. “I would’ve let you in,” he admitted. “How did you even…” 

“Rhodey’s friends with Bucky on facebook, saw he shared the obituary and information about the service and let me know. I was able to fly in, got on the first flight I could to be there. Stood in the back. I wanted to say something, but you just looked… _ shattered _. But I wanted to be there for you, whether you knew it or not, and for your mom. She let me be a kid when that’s all I really wanted to be, and I’m so sorry she’s gone.”

It felt like the ground was falling away, and Steve’s eyes were definitely full now. _ Tony had been there all along. _

“Tony,” he said. 

“I’m sorry, I know I probably shouldn’t have,” Tony said at the same time. 

“No, that’s not what I was going to say at all. Thank you. I’m glad you were there. It killed me that I couldn’t call you when it happened.”

“Steve. Of course you could have called me. Please tell me you know that.” 

Steve paused. “I couldn’t though. I told you we shouldn’t talk anymore after that night you went to the party and you agreed. I couldn’t go back on what I’d asked you to do.” He knew it sounded crazy when he said it out loud. 

“That night… God, I was an idiot, I’m still sorry about that,” Tony sighed. “I ruined everything. You were right to put an end to it once and for all.”

Steve wanted to hug him, tell him that they did this together, that they were both to blame, and kiss away the scrunched, worried look from his eyes. 

“We thought we were doing what was best. I was trying to keep going without you, and it felt impossible to move on when I knew you might be having the same doubts as me. You’ve always been the stronger one,” Steve said.

Tony snorted. “Debatable. Couldn’t stand up to my father, lived in misery for years because of it, left you behind without putting up any kind of fight. That’s cowardice, not strength, Steve. _ You _ were the strong one.”

“Tony. You know that’s not true. You did what you had to do to make it through high school. Luckily, you could come to my house so often, but even when you went home, you did your best to keep things civil, to keep yourself _ safe _. And I didn’t fight that choice either, so…” 

So _ what _, exactly, Steve didn’t know.

“Are you happy?” Tony asked quietly.

Steve thought about it. “Sometimes. I’m… getting there. Maybe.”

Tony huffed a little laugh, then said, “Yeah, that about sums up the last ten years.”

The car was small and felt like it got smaller with every admission they made to each other. Steve took a deep breath, moved his hand to cover Tony’s, which seemed to jolt something in both of them. Tony met Steve’s eyes and it was like he could finally breathe again. 

_ Oh. _

Steve couldn’t say who moved first, but it might have been him. In his haste to bring their lips together, Steve threw all his uncertainty, all of his years of loneliness, into kissing Tony Stark for the first time in a decade. It was messy and clumsy at first, before they slipped into a familiar rhythm, and Steve lost himself in it. Kissing Tony again felt like water after being parched, or a balm on badly burned skin. It was everything he never wanted to admit he still needed, still _ wanted _. But now that he had it, he was sure he’d risk everything not to lose it a second time. 

When they broke apart, Tony stared at him for a long minute. His eyes seemed to shine in the dim lighting of the car. Somehow, while they’d talked and made up for lost time, the sun had gone down; the reunion might be over completely, and they wouldn’t even know it.

“Is this a stupid idea?” Tony asked. 

“We’ve done worse.” Steve felt more sure of this than he had anything except maybe the work he did every day. They brought out the best in each other, he knew it now. It had been a lesson years in the making, on a path cluttered with loneliness and heartbreak and confusion, but they’d arrived in the end. 

“Much worse,” Tony agreed with a laugh. He brought a palm to Steve’s face, cupped his cheek softly, and Steve could feel the rough edges of his hands, gentle despite their calluses, and leaned into the touch. 

“I hate that we lost ten years of this,” Steve said.

Tony nodded slowly. “I know. But I think… I mean, now we know, right? But I think I’ve always known. I love you, Steve, and as sorry as I am that it took us this long to get our act together, I’m glad we’re here now. It’s like… I feel like this weight has been on my chest for so long, and now it’s gone, and all I want to do is… 

“Breathe,” Steve finished for him.

“Exactly.” Tony smiled softly at him. “Just because I finally _ can _ . Never again, okay? No more walking away and wondering _ what if. _We can do this.” Tony paused. “Right?” He looked suddenly uncertain, like Steve might pull the rug out from under him, leave the car, and never speak to him again. 

“Of course we can. I know what it’s like to lose you, and I couldn’t do it again.” 

Tony nodded his agreement, threading their fingers together. “I wouldn’t want to. I wouldn’t survive.”

“I love you, Tony. We’ll figure it out. We have time now,” Steve said. “Should we head back in there?”

Tony cocked his head. “The reunion’s gotta be over by now. Looks like we missed the whole thing.“ Tony pretended to be regretful.

“Probably, but we might as well have dinner while we’re here. We have a lot to catch up on. Can you believe I almost didn’t come?” Steve asked as they got out of the car. Tony took his hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Steve might never let it go.

“I had to. I knew it might be my only chance, the only real excuse I had to see you again. _ God _ am I glad you’re not married.”

“That was my fear. I mean, I wanted you to be happy, of course. But at the same time, if you came with someone tonight… I would’ve been heartbroken.” Even though they were walking together, hand in hand, the thought made his stomach turn.

“Anyone else would’ve only had a piece of me,” Tony murmured. “And a broken piece at that.”

Steve squeezed his hand. They might have missed out on a lot of each other, but they were more whole now than they’d ever been, and they had all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm omg-just-peachy on tumblr, come say hi! :)


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